


Delivery

by SirKai



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Break Up, Drama, M/M, MTMTE, more than meets the eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKai/pseuds/SirKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working an important case for the senate, the newly-promoted Prowl is delivered evidence by an unexpected courier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery

He followed the familiar pattern through the office. Veering around the desks and carefully squeezing past officers all speaking in fragments and marking notes on data boards. All of the windows were illuminated with the afternoon sun, lighting up the entire office. Chromedome’s feet slowed as he neared the enclosed office on the far side of the room. _Those_ windows were completely shielded by lowered blinds. Not a sliver of light escaped.

Chromedome paused for a moment, and rasped two knuckles against the office door.

A muffled voice reverberated through the door. “One moment!”

Lowering his hand, Chromedome glanced around the busy desks and meeting boards. The voice from the closed office was now barely discernable. The mnemosurgeon pretended that he wasn’t trying to listen.

“Yes Senator, I understand, I’ll-” There was a loud sigh. “Yes, I’ll have it taken care of. You have my word. I have to go.” There was a clack, then a quickened sequence of thuds approaching the door, followed by the satisfying click of the lock, and finally the door swung open.

Chromedome turned around to greet the officer.

Officer Prowl’s optics widened. “Tumbler!” He craned his head back slightly. “I didn’t think- I mean, it’s good to-”

Tumbler’s voice was low. “Yes, it’s good to see you too. Here.” He raised a small airtight compartment. There was a tiny memory stick in it.

Prowl cocked an eyebrow at him, then slowly reached out for the box. “This is the evidence I requested? But...” He slowly grasped the translucent cube, and stared at it in his hands. His expression sagged. “I thought it was it was going to be delivered by a ‘Chromedome.’”

“That’s me,” Chromedome said flatly.

Prowl looked up at him with half-lidded optics. “I see. I’ve... heard a lot about you and your accomplishments.” Prowl tapped his thumb against the cube’s thick casing repeatedly for a moment. “Congratulations,” he said meekly.

Chromedome looked away, staring down an empty portion of the corridor at nothing in particular. “Thank you. I read about your promotions,” he said, turning back to Prowl.

“Oh, yes. The timing was quite... fortunate.”

Chromedome folded his arms.

Prowl opened his mouth, then froze. He settled on a sigh.

“Anything else?” Chromedome asked.

“No.” The officer shifted his feet in place. “I guess you’d better go then. You must be busy.”

“Mhm.” Chromedome nodded.

Prowl’s gaze drifted back to the sterile evidence cube in his hands. His turned it over, and gently thumbed at the ID-locked lid. He glanced back up to face his ex-partner. “Well, thank you for-”

Prowl paused again. He still felt the edges and grooves of the cube against his servos, standing alone in the doorway. There was a whipping thud as he kicked the door shut on the way back to his desk. 

The office was dark again, now meagerly lit by the small desk lamp. Prowl stood over the neatly organized stacks of datapads, and lazily gazed at the blue terminal interface propped up on the desktop. The illuminated blue screen still showed the open case file. Prowl’s dimmed optics shifted from it to the evidence cube he was still slowly turning over in his hands. 

He admired the stainless and reflective sheen of the little transparent container. He brushed his thumb along the bottom, wrapped his fingers around the bulk of it, and squeezed. The plates in his mouth ground against each other as the sharp edges of the cube cut into the gaps in his fingers. He wound his arm back and pitched the cube at the wall. It collided with a cracking bang as it bounced from the wall and clattered across the floor.

Shoulders raised and servos clawing at the air, Prowl gripped the edge of his desk and with a brief grunt, hurled it forward. Wires sparked and ripped from the pristine floor. The myriad of datapads and styluses spread across the room. The desk somersaulted in the air and crashed on its top against the floor, sliding a few inches towards the blinded windows. Prowl’s sole desk lamp had shattered and drowned the room in near total darkness.

Prowl’s flared optics instinctively shifted to a night vision green, and darted around the scene. He was hunched over, baring his dental plates and twitching his fingers. The heels of his feet ground and scraped at the white tiles. He stamped his feet against the floor and collapsed into his chair. Prowl sat, leaning forward with his elbows resting against his knees, and clasped a hand over his optics.


End file.
